Chapter 120

• Thankfully, the corridors are relatively empty, and with Ruth’s help, I manage to get Lucas inside with no witnesses. Every step is heavier than the last—not just because he’s nearly twice my size and slumped in a semiconscious stupor—but because each moment feels weighted with fear.
• We stagger toward the nearest couch in the study and drop him down unceremoniously. He falls face-first into the cushions, a low, muffled groan escaping from his throat. His arm dangles off the side, lifeless, as if every ounce of strength has been drained from his body.
• I collapse to my knees beside him, one hand trembling as I reach up to brush his damp hair away from his forehead. His skin is burning, fevered, sweat slicking his temples.